Chapter 87

• Zara’s POV
• I kept my movements deliberate, measured, the way someone might move across a stage while pretending they weren’t being watched. Every time I drifted toward Nova’s little station by the entrance, I told myself I was being casual. That no one noticed.
• Nova sat prim and proper, her pen scratching across a clipboard like it was an extension of her hand. She wore an expression too tight to be neutral, eyes flitting up each time someone passed, checking, logging, sealing their presence in neat rows of ink.